


these things take forever

by dogbreath333



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, F/M, god hinata! you need to drink more water!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 09:56:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20172334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogbreath333/pseuds/dogbreath333
Summary: Choji dumps his shot into his beer, which is something so foreign and fascinating to Hinata that she almost drops her G&T when she lifts it to take a sip. It’s bad. She never drinks well gin, nor has she ever drank well anything. So that was another lie.





	these things take forever

“What is it? Is my makeup too much?”

“No,” Sakura sighs. “You look beautiful. Drink more water.”

Hinata obediently takes a swig from the cup on the floor between them. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t know,” Sakura pushes, and brushes through Hinata’s hair once, twice more, and sets the comb aside. “Take it easy tonight, will you? You look like a woman on a mission.”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” Hinata shrugs. And yet—the pit of her stomach is churning away. “Shikamaru and Ino will be there. So, not a date.”

Sakura peers at her in the mirror. “Hm. Drink more water.”

“I can’t,” Hinata springs up and starts throwing her things into her pockets madly. “I’m late.”

“Where are you going?” Sakura asks, when Hinata bypasses the front door entirely.

“Tenten? May I come in?” Hinata eases the door at the end of the hall open.

Tenten’s sat in the windowsill, leaning at a jaunty angle out into the night, smoking something she picked up last time she was in Hidden Mist. “Hi,” she grins, with teeth.

Sakura barges in behind Hinata. “What the fuck is that? It reeks.”

“Shh-sh-shh, Sakura. Relax. Need something, Hinata?”

Hinata glances guiltily at Sakura, but straightens her shoulders and answers bluntly all the same. “Cigarettes.” 

“Heh.” Tenten smirks and tosses her a pack.

“Ohhh, you!” Sakura chides as she pushes Hinata back out into the hall. “I  _ knew _ I shoulda been worried. You’re gonna have a messy night and I won’t even be there to help you. And you!” she points at Tenten, “ _ bad influence _ ,” and slams the door on Tenten’s merry laughter.

Hinata moves through the hall but lingers at the front door, toying with the pack of cigarettes, before tucking them into her pocket too. “Have a good shift. Don’t worry so much.”

Sakura waves her away. “Go, I don’t care anymore. Make good choices. Or don’t!”

Hinata quirks the tiniest of smiles. “Bye,” she says, closes the door behind her, and runs full tilt down the stairs and into the street.

It’s almost a mile away—the bar she’s meeting Choji at. She could take to the rooftops and run, but she wants to walk out in the cool spring night, like a civilian.

Not even a block away from Sakura, Tenten, and Lee’s apartment, a man lurches forth from the shadows. “Oh, oh, oh, you’re looking good mama. How you doing tonight?”

Hinata bares her teeth in a fierce grin. “Keep moving,” she says in her lowest, most dangerous voice, and he melts back into the alley, as if absorbed by the night. 

She doesn’t really even begrudge him, because it brings her to life—the darkness, the cigarettes, her own savage, secret temper. She hastens on.

* * *

Choji’s already there, sitting at the bar. He waves when he sees her, moves his jacket off the stool next to him. “Hey,” he says. “Are you hungry? I ordered nachos.”

“Yes,” Hinata lies, even though she’s already eaten dinner. 

Choji flags down the bartender. “I’ll have a can of whatever and a shot of something. Cheap.”

The bartender turns to Hinata. She clears her throat. “Gin and tonic. Well, please.”

“Tab?” the bartender asks.

“Yes,” Hinata says.

But Choji cuts her off. “Nah, we’ll pay now. Ino and Shika are gonna be here soon anyway, we’ll probably move to a booth.”

“Ah, okay,” Hinata says, and passes a few bills to the bartender. “I’ve got this round then.”

“Thanks,” Choji grins. “Drinking from the well, huh? So you’re slumming it tonight.”

Hinata huffs out a little laugh. “It’s been known to happen.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“How are you?”

“Good, good.”

The drinks are slid, unceremoniously, down the bar towards them, followed shortly by the nachos. 

Choji dumps his shot into his beer, which is something so foreign and fascinating to Hinata that she almost drops her G&T when she lifts it to take a sip. It’s bad. She never drinks well gin, nor has she ever drank well anything. So that was another lie. 

She turns to Choji, and waits.

“No one else could join you tonight?” he asks.

“Sakura works the graveyard tonight. Lee’s on a mission. And Tenten’s, uh, indisposed—” Choji laughs. “—so you just have me tonight,” Hinata finishes, lamely.

“That’s fine,” Choji smiles. “You’re not so bad. No Kiba?”

Why would he ask about Kiba? “No. Why?”

Choji shrugs. “I dunno. Thought you two were attached at the hip.”

He’s fishing. He’s  _ jealous.  _ Hinata flushes, pleased. “Not really.”

“Hm,” is all Choji says. 

The shitty gin is going fast. “It’s funny,” Hinata says, in the sticky silence. She gathers her courage. “We’ve been friends for so many years, but I don’t know anything about your life. Your personal life, I mean.”

Choji regards her, looking surprised, maybe. “Where should I start?”

“The beginning,” she says, and leans forward to hang on every word.

He’s so interesting, is the thing. There are huge swathes of time in the past few years that Hinata’s heard nothing about. Not to mention his thoughts and dreams, his friends from Kumo, his family, his team. 

They demolish the plate of nachos while Choji tells story after story, and they forget to order a second round of drinks. By the time Ino and Shikamaru arrive, she’s cooled off from the buzz of her first gin and tonic, but she’s drunk on the conversation—it almost escapes her notice that she hasn’t had the chance to say anything about herself. 

* * *

They move to a booth and order pitchers and pitchers of margaritas. Hinata drinks more than she talks. She likes Ino, a lot. But she’s never cared much for Shikamaru. He watches Hinata far too closely, and twice as critically. So, she drinks even more.

Okay, okay, she’s drunk. She tries to find the thread of the conversation. They’re talking about Asuma. 

“That’s just like Neji,” she blurts. “People die and you realize you didn’t even get a chance to know them.”

Silence reigns. Ino reaches out and squeezes Hinata’s hand.

“I’m going out for a cigarette,” Hinata mumbles. No one follows her.

It’s lovely outside, as it turns out. People are milling around, and they just look so happy to be alive after so much war. Hinata’s mood flips on a dime. It  _ is _ good to be alive, isn’t it. She smokes her cigarette and smiles at everyone who passes.

When she goes back inside, Ino is gathering her things. Hinata waits for Shikamaru to follow, but he’s deep in conversation with Choji.

“Gotta go, honey,” Ino tells her. “That girl gave me  _ just _ the look I was waiting for.” Ino gestures to a girl by the door, a willowy, statuesque civilian with long braids. She’s waiting for Ino with warm eyes.

“Be safe,” Ino squeezes Hinata’s shoulder, and leaves with the civilian girl.

“You too,” Hinata answers, but she waited too long and Ino’s already gone.

Hinata isn’t entirely sure what she’s doing right now, besides standing awkwardly in the aisle next to the booth, and staring into space. Then movement catches her eye—across the bar is Kiba, with his sister Hana. They’re waving. He raises an eyebrow at her, almost laughing. Of course he knows she’s wasted. Asshole.

Hinata balls up her fists and, for lack of anything better to do, sticks her tongue out at him. He and Hana are cracking up at her now. Hinata doesn’t even bother going to say hi.

“Hinata?” Choji says tentatively. 

She sinks back into the booth with all the Hyuuga grace she can muster. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Choji cocks his head at her. “You feelin’ okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Hyuuga’s are blunt drunks. Neji died. I’m depressed. You’re beautiful. Whatever.”

Choji looks flabbergasted. “Wow, yeah, blunt is definitely the word. Uh, thanks though.”

Embarrassment is coursing through her. She wants to hide. What is this? “Sorry.”

“Hey, you’re okay,” Choji says, so kindly. “Drink some water, kid.”

Shikamaru looks unimpressed by the whole sorry scene. “Anyway, did you hear—” he goes on, and Hinata loses the plot again.

You know, the more she sits there, the more she wants to touch him. Maybe if she—right, yeah, just scoot a little closer. She ghosts her hand over his leg, not quite connecting. Then, one finger at a time, her hand meets the material of Choji’s jeans.

She’s doing it! Her hand’s on his leg. When can they get out of here?

Oh, now he’s touching her too! He’s lifting her hand off his leg, placing it back in her lap.

Hinata squints. That can’t be right. Did she mess it up? Maybe if she does it again? Or, oh… Shikamaru is looking at her. He looks like...pity.

Hinata’s stomach roils. She grabs her cigarettes and heads outside without saying anything.

This time, smoking just makes her feel sicker. And then, it’s like. Ew.  _ Really  _ sicky.

She goes back inside. Choji’s watching the door for her. He looks concerned. Hinata suddenly really, really doesn’t care. 

She picks up two whole water glasses from the table and drops a few more bills near Choji. 

“I’ll pay you back if this doesn’t cover it. I need to run though, I can’t be late home.”

“Okay,” Choji says, disappointingly agreeable about the whole thing. “You’re going back alone?”

Well she’s certainly not going back with anyone  _ else.  _ “Yes. I’m fine. Good night. See you both.” She walks out with both glasses of water in hand. She’s sure they have plenty to spare.

_ I can’t be late home _ , she thinks scornfully as she spills out onto the street. Lying again. She’s not going back to the Hyuuga compound drunk as a skunk and reeking like cigarette smoke. She’ll go back to Sakura, Lee and Tenten’s place, and sleep in Sakura’s bed while she’s at work.

It’s raining lightly outside now, which feels good. Drinking water also feels good, so Hinata keeps doing it. She drinks and walks until both glasses are empty. One of them, she tucks into her jacket pocket. The other, inexplicably, ends up shattered against a brick wall.

Hinata pretends this event has nothing to do with her, and she stumbles on towards the apartment.

* * *

Time moves the way it does for drunk people—which is to say, extremely slowly and yet all at once.

Hinata finds herself standing the the apartment’s little kitchen, with no memory of how she got into the building. She stares at the clock. It’s only just past one in the morning. She gapes dumbly. It’s still so early. And she’s so drunk. And  _ alone.  _

The light shines dimly from under Tenten’s door, but that sounds like the  _ worst _ idea, even among all the terrible ideas that have been executed on this night.

And yet, Hinata realizes, as she tiptoes to Sakura’s bedroom, that this rejection has actually solved so many problems. 

Hinata tried the bold confession thing with Naruto as a girl, and it didn’t work. She tried sexual overtures with Choji as a grown woman, and it didn’t work. Now she doesn’t have to try  _ anything,  _ or do  _ anything _ , because she’s already failed at it all. 

Now she can just—and anyway, she’s really super tired. And the water glass in her jacket pocket is suddenly the most hilarious and bittersweet and precious and nostalgic thing she’s ever owned, and she holds it close as she throws off her clothes and falls into Sakura’s bed. And maybe she’s crying a little bit because any emotion at all inevitably leads to thoughts of Neji, but it doesn’t matter because she’s asleep anyway.

* * *

Did she sleep? It feels like only minutes have passed and she’s running down the hall for the bathroom. 

Hinata’s never vomited while naked before. It’s neither better nor worse than vomiting while clothed. It’s just...weird. Different.

She feels almost pleased with herself afterwards. It’s out of her system—and, oh. That’s the revelation she was on the verge of earlier! It’s all out of her system! Sickness! Boys! Men! She tried, and it didn’t work. Now she can focus on—anything. 

She slinks back to bed with a smile on her face.

* * *

She wakes again when the front door eases open just after dawn. Hinata hopes for a second that it’s Sakura, so she can share the good word, the truth, at last—!

But it’s Lee. Hinata throws last night’s clothes on, all in a rush, and slips down the hallway.

“Good morning, Lee.”

“Oh, wonderful, Hinata! You’re awake.”

Hinata puts the glass in the sink—she doesn’t fucking want it anymore—and hugs Lee hello. “How was your mission?”

“Great, good, fine. Don’t worry about me—Kiba’s outside waiting for you.”

If there was a record on, Hinata would like to believe that it would have scratched and stopped. “He is?”

Lee nods enthusiastically.

So what was all this growing up she’s done in the last eight hours, then? Kiba’s outside? After everything that happened and didn’t happen last night, Kiba’s outside. It’s ridiculous. She won’t stand for it. She’s putting her shoes on.

“We’ll catch up soon, okay?” Hinata tells Lee, apologetically.

Lee just smiles like a cherub as she tumbles out the door and down the stairs.

And there he is, standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, looking haggard as she feels. He wears it well. There’s something wily in his face, but then, there always was.

“Breakfast?” he smiles, and of course, he knows, because he always does.

Hinata’s plans and promises all rearrange themselves just a bit—but breakfast sounds pretty good right now, so she figures it’s a fine place to start.


End file.
